


It’s shattered beads, stomped flowers, vomit— such stupid beauty

by Itgoeson



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Character Study, Dark, ish?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 14:06:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6287608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itgoeson/pseuds/Itgoeson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thoughts on Levi, Levi's thoughts on death and life. </p>
<p>A character study of sorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It’s shattered beads, stomped flowers, vomit— such stupid beauty

The tea swirled, settled, rippled again on its journey to the table.

Next to him, Eren poured himself a cup, tipping in sugar.

Levi continued to contemplate his tea. 

There’s a clarity to the kid – he knew where he was going, he was comfortable with who he’d been. Levi thinks that maybe it’s because of Mikasa and Armin. Thinks it’s just as well, that they all came here together, to the Corps. None of them would have lasted inside the Walls without being driven, feral with anger and too much potential, to the Underground. 

There’s a clarity to the kid that little else has. Eren sees things in black and white where Levi never got a chance to see anything but shit and less-shit. He doesn’t like to admit he likes him to anyone, but, well. Eren’s also still alive, which might be damning evidence. It’s also refreshing. 

Eren calms, and Levi is left with only Hange’s chattering and Mike’s occasional acknowledgements from halfway down the table, where they’re hunched over a stack of papers dotted with Hange’s spidery writing. The room is otherwise empty for now, just the four of them. Erwin must be riding back from the Capital now. Levi idly wonders if he’ll be too sick from the pain of having his shoulder jarred from the ride to eat dinner. 

The last excursion had been a difficult one. Ewrin had been quieter than usual, frustrated that he would only put more lives in jeopardy if he went with them without his arm. The bags under his eyes had deepened and purpled until they had come back. Levi and Erwin knew better than most the importance of appearances. To look weak was to be weak. Sleeping meant no lingering signs of trauma, of unsteadiness. A well-rested leader was better than one that kept himself awake, second-guessing until sunrise and terrified for his men. 

Levi was still relieved that Erwin had the sense to stay back, even if it did feel like he was the one who had lost an arm when they’d first spotted the Titans beyond the Wall this time. 

He mentally shook himself. Erwin was alive. And Levi would come back, even if Erwin weren’t there to ensure it.

The people had christened him Humanity’s Strongest; he could be strong for humanity, but he would not die for them. 

If Levi were to die beyond the walls, Hange would be left without someone to listen to them on their early morning workouts without getting offended at their lack of social awareness when it came to talking about the Titans. Eren would be left without someone to beat him into iron, forge him into something better than just strong. The Corps would be without a squad leader, without an excellent teacher. Humanity would know the desolation of having a hope murdered and paraded, would have to accept how fragile life could be. 

Erwin would go on living. He would go on living and hate himself for it. 

This last might hurt Levi the most.

Erwin would carry on leading the Corps, searching for a way to be free of Walls and Titans and extinction. He’d consult with Hange more, ask their advice from time to time. They aren’t Levi, though. More people would likely die.

There would be no one to remind Erwin to inspect barracks for mold, no one to double-check the water supply and keep an eye out for thieves the way only a thief really could. 

No one to cajole Erwin into sleeping, into eating, into fucking. 

Erwin wouldn’t find someone, after Levi’s death. They’ve both seen too much, lost too much. And while Levi can – and has – made Erwin stop for long enough to get off, it takes time. Erwin’s brain never stops, can’t stop spinning long enough to let go. It took years for Levi to convince him it didn’t matter if Erwin came, as long as he enjoyed it. Levi would hate to take away a person Erwin trusted so much, even if Levi did die working to complete his and Erwin’s life’s work.

Levi’s death would mean the cat that dropped by their room in headquarters would have to find a new windowsill to sit on – Erwin tolerated it because Levi liked to have it nearby, but he certainly didn’t feed it scraps the way Levi did. 

Levi’s death would mean a thousand memories his friends would have to live with. The empty space at the table, the way Eren would remember how he liked his tea. The shower stall he always used and the smell of his soap. Hange’s lonely training regiment that only he could keep up with and still train with the rest of the regiment throughout the day; the way they would know that he had liked listening to them talk because they didn’t patronize him, that they didn’t dumb things down.

Mikasa would miss him. They respected one another. She would know how to hold her swords the way he had, would remember the afternoons they had spent perfecting her grip.

Levi blinked, slowly. Erwin would still know the way Levi twitched in his sleep, where he had kept his knives and the brass knuckles still tucked in a drawer and still shoulder the memories Levi had shared with him, memories about Farlan and Isabelle and his mother.

Mike brayed out a laugh and Armin swooped through the door, serious eyes shining for once as he called out an insult in greeting. 

Levi rubbed a thumb over the bandage on his neck. A Titan had flailed, tree branches had gone flying, and Levi had jumped just in time.

Erwin would laugh if Levi told him how morbid he was being today. Tease him about finally turning into a sappy old man before shoving maps at him, asking what he thought of a new route. 

More people filtered into the room, sitting down at the table, making bets on their next excursion and shoving softly at one another. 

Eren stole a role off of Mikasa’s plate while she was listening to Jean, and Jean huffed. Levi watched as Eren and Armin shared the roll and rolled their eyes. Mikasa finally pulled her scarf away from her face enough to end the conversation and looked to Armin and Eren. The three picked at each others’ plates without, Armin with most of the vegetables and Eren with the lion’s share of the meat, Mikasa having scraped rice and sauce onto her plate from the both of them.

He makes a mental note to mention this to Hange, if they haven't noticed it yet. They love to gossip, but Moblit can only pay attention to so much before he gets bored. Hange needs better informants, but Moblit and Levi are what they've got. Hange always smiles at him like they can't believe their luck when Levi tells them shit like this anyway.

Levi took a deep breath. A home was a dangerous thing – making other people into a kind of home even more so. But so was living, he supposed. And he hoped to continue living for a while yet.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from Patricia Smith's "Prologue - And Then She Owns You." Her book Blood Dazzler is, by the way, phenomenal, and Patricia Smith as a writer is endlessly talented. 
> 
> SnK is just? So beautifully tragic. And this is a bit depressing, my b.


End file.
